


In Praise of Defiant Hair Tufts

by soysauceanon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean is a sap, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, and he really loves his angel, castiel's hair, gross fluff, it's fine don't worry about it, laughing, sort of, the hair talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:52:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6696190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soysauceanon/pseuds/soysauceanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has an adorable tuft of hair on the back of his head that always sticks up. It gives Dean feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Praise of Defiant Hair Tufts

Cas’s hair is hilariously unruly. This is nothing new. Dean still remembers (as if he could forget) the silhouette cut into the night sky that charged fearlessly toward him in that barn all those years ago. He thinks about that night a lot. And when he closes his eyes he immediately remembers the sparks and the flashing blue eyes. (If Dean didn’t have some personal beef with destiny he might go so far as to say that he caught a glimpse of his in those eyes.) He remembers the billowing coat and flapping belt, so seemingly incongruous to the being it protected despite how it later came to symbolize him. He remembers the hard clench of his fist and the vibration in his fingers as he slid his knife into Cas’s chest, and while he knows it did no damage, that feeling still haunts him sometimes. **  
**

But he also remembers the hair. It was everywhere; as wild and beautiful as the head it adorned, like there was too much Cas in too little body, and the excess had used those beautiful strands like so many tiny escape routes.

A lot has happened in the intervening years, and while Cas is no longer the same, and Dean sometimes still misses that holy alien of former days, it’s a superficial ache - there and gone again, and easily replaced by the profound love that has grown inside him for whom Cas has become.

Lately, Dean has noticed that Cas is wearing his hair shorter, and therefore tamer, which prompted him to start a discussion at dinner one night about angelic haircuts and what kind of barbershops might be housed behind those pearly gates upstairs. (At first this succeeded only in earning him twin baffled looks from both Sam and Cas, until eventually the levee broke and he was treated to dueling lectures about why that’s stupid (Sam) and an orderly list of all the reasons why angels in heaven occupying their true forms have no need of hair, and how vessels can be put into stasis thereby eliminating the need for barbers (Cas). Which, whatever, Dean probably should have seen that coming, but he still thinks it’s funny to think about angels doing routine maintenance on their vessels, so sue him.) The neat and trim hair is a good look on Cas, (everything is a good look on Cas) so Dean’s not complaining about the shorter hair or anything. It’s just different.

He has noticed, however, that despite the overall tidiness of Cas’s current hairstyle, there’s one little tuft of hair near the cowlick on the back of his head that is almost always sticking straight up. He guesses it was always there, but was never that noticeable when competing with all the other rebel patches. Now, it’s like a little reminder of that wild thing that Cas used to be, and Dean loves it. He thinks that little hair tuft might be the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

They’ve been together for a while now, and nothing much has changed because in all the meaningful ways they had been together for years. Cas was already living at the bunker, but now instead of breaking off into separate rooms to research or clean guns, they settle together somewhere. Cas was already sleeping in Dean’s room too, but now they do it at the same time instead of in shifts. And Dean was already always touching Cas in small ways: a hand on the arm to make sure he was real, a pat on the back to provide comfort, or a gripping hug after a difficult hunt. The only thing that has changed is that now he does it with full knowledge of how welcome these touches are by the other party. (And fine, maybe he also sometimes adds a smack on the ass or a peck on the cheek.)

And there’s that hair tuft.

Dean often finds himself absently patting it down whenever he walks by Cas. He likes running his hand over it, and smoothing down the hair repeatedly. Not because he particularly wants it to lie flat, in fact quite the opposite. He likes the way it always springs defiantly up, no matter how many times he tamps it down. _I won’t be defeated,_ it seems to say. _You don’t have the power to kill me, paltry human!_ And yeah, maybe Dean is losing his mind if he’s imagining tiny battle cries coming from Cas’s hair, but he’s pretty happy so he’s not gonna worry about it too much. Besides, it reminds him of the way the three of them have never been taken down for the long term, always popping back up when they should be dead, and he kinda likes the parallel. 

Dean also likes the way Cas smiles whenever he reaches his fingers out for that spot. Small, contented smiles, like he can feel all the warmth of Dean’s heart transferred through his fingers when they run through his hair. Sometimes Cas will even lean into the touch, like a cat, and Dean won’t be able to resist doing it again, just to keep watching that look on Cas’s face.

Even at times like this, in the middle of the night, when Dean finds himself awake with a sleeping Cas beside him, he’ll smooth down that one tuft of hair and imagine he can see the ghost of a warm smile lifting the edges of Cas’s mouth. And although he's done it hundreds of times before, this time Dean is suddenly so overcome, and so full of this indefinable warmth that he feels tears spring to his eyes. Is this what it feels like to be happy? He thinks it must be.

He’s felt happiness before, of course - his life has been hard, sure, but it’s had its bright spots - but it’s never filled him up from the inside, bursting out of him like he can’t control it, powerful and all-consuming. And he laughs as he imagines the same thing happening to Cas, filled up with happiness until it comes flooding out of him. He imagines a nebulous stream of _joy_ just shooting out of that one stupid little tuft of hair, like a little siphon to the universe. And it’s a beautiful thought, so bright, and so ridiculous, that he feels himself go red from trying to hold his laughter in enough to prevent Cas from waking. As tears roll down his cheeks, he leans over and presses a gentle kiss to Cas’s jaw. Then he shifts and adds one to his shoulder, then moves up to leaves one on his forehead. Still smiling uncontrollably, he presses tiny kisses everywhere, aimlessly covering as much of Cas as he can reach without disturbing his sleep, until he finally leans up and presses his face into that soft hair. He stays there a minute, breathing in the scent of Cas and smiling, before giving one more choice kiss to the top of Cas’s head, right over that infamous, life changing patch of hair.

“I get it now, buddy,” he says. “You and me, we’re gonna be okay.”

He’s occupied with leaving one last kiss in that cherished spot when an arm comes up and grasps him gently by the shoulder. Without opening his eyes Cas pulls Dean back down until they’re settled tightly together, chest to chest, with Cas’s face in Dean’s neck.

“Stop talking to my hair, Dean,” Cas yawns. “Go back to sleep.”

And Dean beams uncontrollably into the darkness as he relaxes into the pillow and melts into Cas’s body.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm on tumblr [here](http://guilelessquagmire.tumblr.com/)


End file.
